


Aloe

by TrashCan_Inc



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album)
Genre: Backstory, Drabble, Internal Monologue, Nonbinary Party Poison, Other, desert life, just wants his hand held, sleepy, touch starved, touch starved ghoul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 21:03:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14293407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashCan_Inc/pseuds/TrashCan_Inc
Summary: A little drabble, in which Fun Ghoul thinks about Poison...





	Aloe

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my friend Ian! Happy birthday!!! Enjoy ur Ghoul content, buddy!

Poison’s hands were rougher than you’d expect.

Ghoul wasn’t sure what he’d expected. It’s not like there was any moisturiser in the desert. Hell, there wasn’t even moisture _in general_.

But still, Poison had the air of someone who had some ridiculously complicated skin-care routine that would take you 500 hours and cost you your kidney and your first-born child to keep up with. Maybe once upon a time they did. In the city. Maybe as a teen, after escaping Bat City, they’d attempted to keep up with it using desert plants. Ghoul tried to remember if he’d ever seen them gathering aloe vera (that’s what people used right? Jet read about it in a book. Did it grow in these zones?), but Ghoul’s memories of his first year or so camped out (and recovering from malnourishment and childhood trauma) in that neutral town were... foggy at best.  
Did he ever remember Poison trying to comfort him after a meltdown? He remembers being found wandering in a bush, and he remembers the boys taking him to Jet’s mother, and he remembers Poison and Kobra having that strong City-boy Smell (chemical. Harsh. Sad.) But they tried not to touch him, tried to give him space. He was just a little lost boy then, after all, and not a very talkative one, and they had no idea what he might have been through.

But Ghoul liked people touching him. That was the one thing missing from his life until the three had found him. And so here he was, head on Poison’s shoulder, while Poison put their arm across his back, hand draped lazily on Ghoul’s shoulder. And the two of them had their respective free hands together, fingers intertwined. Poison’s thumb rubbed gentle circles into Ghoul’s palm, their chipped green nail polish glinting in the sun. Ghoul felt their fingers gently stroke his shoulder. Poison was maybe a bit hardened from the war, but they were still so, so soft. And Ghoul was happy to find himself gently drifting off to sleep against Poison’s jacket, with Poison’s hand caressing his shoulder, and the sun’s rays caressing his face


End file.
